


sing like you think no one’s listening

by cherryvanilla



Series: you would kill for this (just a little bit) [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, College, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Infidelity, Love Triangles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 18:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I haven't been this scared in a long time</i>
  <br/>
  <i>And I'm so unprepared so here's your valentine</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Bouquet of clumsy words, a simple melody</i>
</p><p>Or, in which Kyle is maybe Kelly Taylor and has a choice to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. we're glad for what we've got

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliassmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliassmith/gifts).



> I wrote chapter 1 of this for lisa back in 2012 and never posted it anywhere but my journal because it was supposed to be all about Stan/Kyle and ended up becoming more about Kyle/Cartman. I've altered this a little to fit the way the narrative was inevitable swaying. Chapter 2 now finished as of 8/26/14. 
> 
> Title by Straylight Run, summary by Blink 182.

Stan bounded into his dorm room and threw himself down on the bed, seemingly not the least bit surprised to find Kyle there. 

“Wendy hasn’t written.”

Kyle didn’t look up from his psych book. “Dude, it’s been a week.” 

“Exactly! It’s been a whole week, Kyle!” 

Kyle groaned and tapped his highlighter against his book. “If you keep this up, I’m gonna start hanging out in Cartman’s room.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“I dunno,” Kyle said thoughtfully, chewing on the cap of his highlighter. “He gives a mean blowjob.” 

Stan groaned loudly and Kyle didn’t have to look over to know he was covering his face with his hands. “I still can’t believe you did that. Do you have any idea how many points you lost with me?” 

“So you tell me on a near daily basis,” Kyle replied, permanently bored. 

“It was a big deal!” Stan exclaimed. 

Kyle turned a page in his book. He already knew all about Freud. This shit was rudimentary, at best.

“It was six weeks ago and it was drunken hate-sex,” he said, swallowing hard around the slight lie. 

He could hear Stan shifting, sitting up. “You still think about it, though.” 

Now Kyle did look up, exasperated. “Dude, why the fuck are we talking about this? I thought we were talking about Wendy.” 

Stan shrugged. “You didn’t want to talk about Wendy.” 

“No, I didn’t want to listen to you _whine_ about Wendy. And guess what; I don’t want to talk about Cartman, either.” 

Stan snorted and picked up a handball from the bedside table, tossing it from one palm to the other. “I can’t believe he hasn’t asked you on a date yet.” 

Kyle tossed down his highlighter, mind racing, defenses up. “Dude, what the _fuck_? It. Was. One. Night.” He was hating himself right now, lying and hating himself. 

“He’s obsessed with you,” Stan pointed out, voice indignant. 

“I’m not talking about this anymore.” 

Kyle turned to a clean page in his notebook and began writing down his chapter notes. 

“Kenny told me that Cartman asked you out.” 

Kyle’s jaw clenched and the pen he’d picked up fell from his slack grasp. 

He looked at Stan, calmly. “So that whole ‘I can’t believe he hasn’t asked you out’ was what? Your passive aggressive attempt at seeing what I’d say?” 

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Stan said, but at least had the decency to look chagrinned. Kyle was aware he was totally being a hypocrite right now. “And maybe.” 

Kyle sighed. “Yes, Stan, he asked me out. I said no. Okay?” 

Stan swung his legs off the bed and planted his feet on the floor. “Why?” 

Kyle’d had enough. He slammed his book shut and looked up, angrily. “Why don’t you tell me, since apparently Kenny can’t be trusted for shit.” 

He watched as Stan’s feet tapped nervously on the floor. “He said you’d told Cartman you were in love with someone else.” 

Kyle nodded, rapidly. “Right. So, apparently Kenny has turned into a gossiping little bitch.” 

“Kyle,” Stan said seriously. “Is it true?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking true.” Kyle felt his face heat and he rose from the desk and walked over to the mini fridge for a bottle of water. 

“You never asked me what the letter to Wendy said.” 

Kyle didn’t know where this was going. He took a large gulp of water. “Lovey-dovey shit, I assumed. I mean who the hell writes actual letters anymore, Stan?” 

“Someone’s who’s too terrified to break-up with someone in person or over the phone. Kyle spit out the water from his mouth and onto the carpet. 

“Dude, weak!” Stan exclaimed. 

Kyle turned slowly to face him. “You broke up with Wendy.” 

It wasn’t a question but Stan still responded, “yes.” 

“Via _letter_." 

“Yes.” 

Kyle ran his gaze over Stan’s body. He was stiff, braced as if for a blow. 

“And you’ve been freaking out over not getting a response because you think she’s on her way from New York to kill you.” 

“Basically,” Stan nodded. “Also because I can’t really… start something else until she does. Call me old-fashioned.” His tone was self-depreciating. 

“Uh-huuuh,” Kyle said slowly. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you kissed me over a week ago and we’ve been pretending it didn’t happen?” 

_____________________

 

It was two Fridays ago now. They’d gone to a party in Kenny’s frat (Kyle still couldn’t believe he was _in_ a frat) and both drank a lot more than they’d planned from the keg. They stumbled back to their dorm together and couldn’t make it all the way up, just stopped in the stairwell and collapsed, arm in arm. Stan had laughed against his cheek and Kyle felt he could fall asleep right there and then. Except Stan started singing under his breath.

“Stop it,” Kyle slurred. “You always get songs stuck in my head.”

“You would kill for this, just a little bit, just a little bit,” Stan sang, purposely louder. 

Kyle grunted. “It isn’t 2002 anymore. Who randomly sings that song?”

“Came on my iPod before we left tonight.”

He continued humming while Kyle pulled Stan’s hat down over his eyes. 

“Fuck off,” Stan said through his laughter, swatting at Kyle’s hand and fixing his hat. Their eyes met and Kyle’s breath caught in his throat. It was probably just the alcohol that caused Stan’s eyes to be darker than night, all pupil. Probably the beer that caused him to stare at Kyle like he was something wondrous and new. 

“Kyle,” Stan whispered, choked, and then surged forward and kissed him, slack mouthed and trembling lips. Kyle wasn’t sure how long it went on. Long enough for him to grip Stan’s upper thigh and feel the muscles jump beneath his hand. Long enough for their tongues to brush repeatedly and lick at one another’s mouths until their lips were slick with spit and groans were escaping through them. 

And then Stan pulled back and looked Kyle like he’d just seen a ghost, and said, “I. Fuck, I’m really drunk.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, although he suddenly never felt more sober. They’d staggered to their respective rooms, which just happened to be on the same floor. Kyle said, “My roommate’s…did you want…?” 

Kyle didn’t, because he couldn’t handle another platonic night, not when Stan had finally made a move and was now probably just thinking of Wendy and regret when he should have been doing that all along. 

“No thanks.” 

They didn’t talk about it the next day and instead fought about stupid shit that had to do with video games and differing film tastes and it’d seemed like Stan just wanted to pick fights left and right so Kyle just ignored him and read a book until Stan finally got the hint and left. 

Kyle jerked off twice afterward and still couldn’t get the pent up energy out of his system. Somehow, he’d found himself at Cartman’s door. 

Cartman had a single. He’d managed to convince the school he had psychological problems and couldn’t handle living with someone else. They lied on their stomachs and played hockey on X-Box while Cartman called him a fucking dirty-ass Jew and Kyle called him a racist fat-ass. Somewhere between the second and third period, Cartman kissed him. Or maybe he kissed Cartman. They hadn’t talked about that one night over a month ago and Kyle would’ve been sure Cartman had forgotten it in a drunken stupor if he hadn’t seen how he looked at him sometimes, like he was recalling every moment of that evening in vivid Technicolor. So they kissed and Kyle knew it had a lot to do with his Stan frustration but he couldn’t care. 

Except that near-closed mouths kisses with their controllers in their hands as they were propped up on their elbows soon became frantic making out; his body pulled on top of Cartman, a thick thigh between his legs while Cartman’s hands skimmed broadly up and down his back, beneath his shirt. 

Kyle gasped and pulled his mouth away. “We should stop.” 

“What the fuck for?” 

He couldn’t think with Cartman’s lips hot against his chin, biting softly. 

Kyle sat back on his knees and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Because this is the worst idea ever.” 

Cartman moved his leg that Kyle was still straddling and rubbed at Kyle’s groin with it rhythmically, punctuating his words with each movement. “On the contrary, I think it’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea.”

Kyle pursed his lips together. “I disagree.” 

“Of course you do,” Cartman said and then tugged Kyle down and latched onto his neck. Kyle had moaned against his will. 

“This is so stupid,” Kyle said, and thought of Stan’s lips on his. He groaned in frustration and sat back again, trying to ignore his throbbing erection. Cartman sighed loudly and palmed Kyle’s chest. 

“It’s not. In fact, I think you should go out with me.” 

Kyle’s eyes jerked to Cartman’s and his mouth fell open. There were times in which Cartman was sincere, even vulnerable. This was one of them. 

Kyle looked down at Cartman’s hands and placed his own over them, removing them from his chest but not letting go. “Cartman, I. I can’t.” 

Cartman pulled his hands away. “You can’t or you don’t want to?” His voice was hard. 

Kyle met his eyes again, pulse jumping in his throat. “I’m in love with someone else.” He was well aware of how he’d evaded the question. 

“The fucking hippie,” he said, no hint of question in his voice. He didn’t wait for Kyle to confirm. “You know he’ll never leave Testaburger.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. 

Cartman looked at him, surprised, not expecting the quite defeat in his voice. “Soooo… explain to me why we shouldn’t fuck each other’s brains out?” 

Cartman’s hand had trailed up his leg, resting on his thigh. Kyle sighed. “Because that’s not all this would be and you proved that a few seconds ago.” 

Cartman fell back against the headboard and rubbed his hands over his face, laughing. “Fuck, I have such a big mouth.” 

Kyle moved to sit next to him, their thighs touching. “Yeah, you do.” 

What he didn’t say was that he it wouldn’t just be fucking for him either. That he could… god, he could see himself giving Cartman a chance. Things were so different now from when they were kids. High school had really mellowed Cartman out. 

“I probably could’ve gotten in your pants tonight, too, you fuckin’ Jew.” 

Kyle grinned and elbowed him. “It’s possible.” 

Kyle turned his head and found Cartman’s face right next to his, a mix of embarrassment and arousal clouding his gaze. “You’re gonna have to leave unless you really are up for some no-strings attached sex tonight.” He looked pointedly at Kyle’s crotch. “You look like you could use it.”

Kyle worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s not fair to you, dude.” 

Cartman laughed, a little meanly. “Jew, if it meant fucking your ass, you could use me for sex all throughout school.” 

Kyle’s dick had twitched at the words and the air felt too hot around them. He watched as Cartman pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, mouth open and lewd. Part of him wanted to correct Cartman, tell him it wouldn’t exactly be using. But that wasn’t fair either. Not when he wasn’t willing to just give up on Stan, regardless of the reality of them ever getting together. 

Kyle shuddered hard. “Just um… fuck, just one last time?” 

Cartman licked his lips slowly and Kyle’s eyes felt hot and heavy.

“But no fucking,” he added. That was… well, that just wasn’t on the table. 

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Get the fuck over here,” and then pulled Kyle into his arms and kissed him until his lips were raw. They barely got their mouths on each other’s dicks before they were coming, gasping around hot flesh. 

Cartman kissed his knee, his thigh. “Jesus christ. You fuckin’ sure you want Marsh?” 

Kyle laughed and rested his damp forehead against Cartman’s torso. “It’s not fair to ask me that right now.” Honestly, Kyle wasn’t sure what he’d say. 

Cartman ran his fingers over Kyle’s ass. “I could fuck you so good you’d forget his name.” 

Kyle impossibly felt his cock give a half-hearted jerk. He laughed and it sounded pathetic to his own ears. “I really doubt that’d be the case.” 

The thing was; the euphoria of incredible sex wore off after a few minutes. Kyle’s loved Stan for years. 

“Yeah, who am I kidding – that fucking Eternal Sunshine machine probably couldn’t make you forget.” 

Kyle winced and wished that statement weren’t totally true. 

Once dressed and at Cartman’s door, Kyle looked back. He was still naked and lighting up a cigarette. “Hey, Cartman?” he said, voice tentative. 

Cartman looked away from the TV and at Kyle. “Yeah, Jew?” 

“I’m really not anything special.” 

Cartman snorted and waved a hand in the air, dismissively. “Tell myself that every day.” 

Kyle felt something tighten in his chest. “This was really fun.” 

Cartman rolled his eyes and looked back at the screen. “Maybe you should just try this thing with Stan once and for all. Make the dream a reality.”

“That’s not possible,” he said, and left. 

___________________

The next day, he’d told Kenny about the Cartman thing. And he couldn’t stop thinking about how if he hadn’t been crazy about Stan, he’d actually consider going on a date. Their first hook-up had definitely been angry hate-sex but the second hadn’t and they didn’t really _hate_ each other, not since both of their adolescent tempers had mellowed out. 

He and Stan didn’t talk about the kiss and Kyle and Cartman didn’t talk about the sex and that was fine. Kyle knew Cartman wouldn’t shoot for more unless he was given the go-ahead, anyway. The Stan thing, well, he didn’t exactly expect anything different. 

For the past week, Stan had been talking about this letter he’d sent Wendy and how it was ‘important.’ He didn’t want to know why it was ‘important.’ Honestly, Stan was the type of guy who might actually propose in a letter, complete with a mix tape and hand-made drawings. 

Except he hadn’t. Instead, he was standing before Kyle telling him he’d broken up with her and Kyle needed to know if their recent kiss was a catalyst. 

In response to Kyle’s question, Stan said, “Well, yeah, it’s… it has to do with that.” 

Kyle returned to the desk and sat down, staring at his hands. “I’m not interested in being your rebound, Stan,” he said, finally and then glanced up at him. 

Stan waved his hands dramatically. “How can you be a rebound when we kissed while I was still with her? I broke up with her for _you_.” 

Kyle felt his nerves on edge. “And why did you kiss me, now, after all this time? Why are you doing this _now_? Because I fucking fooled around with Cartman and you can’t handle that?” 

Hurt flashed in Stan’s eyes as he stood up and took a step closer. “I kissed you because I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever and I realized that I just haven’t been missing Wendy like I should and all I think about is being in your room or you being in my room and us lying on the bed next to each other and sharing my Ipod headphones while you bury your nose in a book and I pretend to be playing Words with Friends on my phone while I’m really just breathing in your smell and trying not to think about how badly I want you.” 

Kyle’s heart was pounding by the time Stan was done rambling. He shook his head, still frustrated. “But why _now?_ We’ve been like that for years, man.” 

Stan came to stand in front of the desk and looked down at Kyle. “I dunno, dude. I’ve just been… I’ve been fucking scared, okay? Things are comfortable with Wendy, and even more so without her here… it’s uncomplicated. With you, I just… I’ll fuck it up, Kyle, and lose you completely.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes. “No, you won’t.”

“And… maybe it did have a little to do with Cartman. I was shocked when I heard he asked you out. It was more that he actually took the risk. I realized… I needed to do the same thing.” 

Kyle felt guilty for his earlier deception. “I fooled around with him again,” he blurted out. “I didn’t want to tell you because you freaked out so much the first time.” 

He watched Stan swallow hard and blink a few times. “Oh. I, uh. Kyle, if I’m too late, well. I mean, it would serve me right.” 

Kyle reached out touched Stan’s leg. “You’re not too late,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I told him nothing could really happen there. It’s just an… itch to scratch on my part.” 

It was… almost the truth. 

Stan nodded but his eyes were still averted. “Do you plan on scratching that itch some more?” 

Kyle stood up and put his hands on Stan’s shoulders. “Cut the shit, Stan, you know I’ve been love with you forever.”

“Love is different from sex,” Stan muttered. 

Kyle tilted his chin up. “Fine, then I’ll tell you something stupidly romantic but just this once, okay?” 

Stan nodded, gaze still weary. 

Kyle tightened his fingers on Stan’s shoulders and breathed out, “I’ve never let anyone fuck me. I’ve been foolishly saving that for you, you ass.” 

Stan kept staring at him and then his mouth quirked up. “That was your romantic declaration?”

Kyle glared. “Shut up, Stan.” 

Stan’s Kyle just widened more. “I mean really, Kyle, insulting me isn’t exactly ‘romantic.’” 

“Did you _miss_ the other part, you ‘tard?” 

Stan was smiling with teeth now and linking their fingers together from where Kyle’s hand rested on his shoulder. “No, I didn’t. I was kind of actually hoping we could get right on that unless you have some more insults to shovel out.” 

Kyle leaned forward and kissed him, hard, and Stan groaned immediately, their bodies melting together as they backed their way towards Stan’s bed. 

Kyle’s left hand pushed at Stan’s shirt while his right started working on his jeans, when he suddenly remembered. “Fuck dude, what about not doing this until you hear back from Wendy?” 

Stan broke away from where he was sucking what would certainly be a spectacular hickey into Kyle’s neck. 

“Ah, shit.” 

Kyle groaned, removed his hands and fell onto the mattress beside Stan. 

Just then, Stan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and laughed incredulously. 

He showed his phone to Kyle. The message read: 

_Who sends Dear John letters anymore? Well, then, I can send a text, can’t I? Tell Kyle I’m surprised it took you this long._

“Talk about timing…” Kyle said. 

Stan looked at the text again. “I did love her, you know. I just love you a shitload more.” 

Kyle kicked his ankle against Stan’s. “Is that supposed to be romantic?” 

“You know it is,” Stan said, mouth already back at Kyle’s neck. Kyle pushed him back onto the bed, his hands reclaiming their position. 

Stan’s mouth felt amazing on his skin and when his hands slid beneath Kyle’s jeans and gripped his cheeks firmly, pulling their bodies close together and kneading the flesh of Kyle’s ass, he shuddered hard. 

“You want me inside you?” Stan whispered as he flicked his tongue at the shell of Kyle’s ear. 

“More than anything,” he sighed, breathlessly. 

They took their time peeling one another out of their clothes, like this hadn’t been building since they were teenagers. Stan slid down Kyle’s body and suckled the head of his cock, just mouthing, lips loose and without real intent. Kyle arched his back and let it go on until he could no longer stand it. 

He wasn’t sure if Stan had ever done this before, honestly had never wanted to know, but it was good, it was great, and Kyle had to push him off or he’d be done for already. They kissed a lot, naked bodies thrusting together. It was hot and kind of perfect because that’s what love did; it made everything better. 

When Stan pushed inside, Kyle’s head dropped back against his shoulder. Stan’s mouth immediately found the base of his neck and he licked at Kyle’s skin softly. Kyle knew Stan could feel his rapid pulse, could hear his chest heaving. They did it on their sides, with Stan plastered to his back and Kyle’s leg bent upward, secured by Stan’s arm. 

When they started to move, Kyle felt nothing but jolts of pleasure shooting out of every nerve-ending of his body. 

Stan sighed softly in his ear and kept saying things like, “You feel so fucking good, how can you feel this good?” while Kyle just moaned and arched and jerked himself off while whispering Stan’s name. 

Afterwards, they kissed until they couldn’t breathe and then came again, rutting together and sighing against one another’s lips. 

“You’re incredible,” Stan said, voice like gravel in his ear. 

Kyle just grinned against his chest. “I guess I can’t be pissed off at Kenny anymore.” 

Stan kissed his shoulder. “It wasn’t Kenny.” 

Kyle frowned and raised his head. “Huh? But I told him… if not him, how did you…”

Stan looked at him pointedly and Kyle’s eyes widened. “Seriously?” 

“I was sure it was some trick, so then I did call Kenny to confirm.”

“But why would he…” 

“He told me to tell you he has a big mouth and he’d decided it was ‘time.’ If that’s something sexual, I don’t want to know.” 

Kyle couldn’t really think, much less breathe. That… Cartman doing that. Well, fuck. Kyle felt a fondness stir inside him, felt something so bittersweet. 

He rolled away from Stan, burying half his face in the pillow. 

“Hey,” Stan said tentatively. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Kyle said thickly, clearing his throat. “Just uh, thinking about how it seems Cartman’s the romantic one in this scenario.” He laughed a little but it sounded weak even to his own ears. He reached out for Stan, linking their fingers together. “How’s that even possible?”

Stan’s dragged his tongue across Kyle’s shoulder blade. “Anything’s possible, Kyle.” 

Kyle was beginning to realize that was true. 

He also was beginning to feel something he never thought he would, after finally getting what he thought he’d always wanted: regret.


	2. i'll be your distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title by Angels and Airwaves. 
> 
> If you're interested in being spoiled wrt who Kyle ultimately ends up choosing, click the end notes.

The next time Kyle saw Cartman was in their Sociology class. It’s the worst possible class to be in with someone like Cartman, yet he’d find himself living for the debates it sparks. There was something about a good topical argument that Kyle found thrilling, especially since he and Stan agree on most things and Kenny never wants to talk about school shit. 

“You’re glowing, Broflovski,” Cartman said after class while Kyle was gathering up his books. “I’m guessing Stan finally made a move.”

Kyle ducked his head, flush unwillingly creeping up his throat. “Yeah, well. Thanks to you, I guess.” He met Cartman’s gaze head on and caught an uncomfortable look on his face. 

“Whatever. How was it then?” 

Kyle shifted his bag higher on his shoulder. They were standing in the mid-section of the room, the rest of the class having trickled out. “How was what?” 

“The sex, stupid,” Cartman said, rolling his eyes in exaggerated fashion. 

Kyle did flush then, up to his cheeks and also felt slightly uncomfortable and hot for a different reason all together. Cartman’s gaze was penetrating and it made him shiver. 

“It was good.”

Cartman looked at him skeptically. “Only good? It wasn’t everything you ever imagined? It didn’t make your balls sweat and your asshole flutter?” 

“Jesus Christ, Cartman!” he choked out, looking around even though they were alone. 

Cartman shook his head ruefully. “Nah, I guess it was just sunshine and roses.” 

“Fuck off, okay? I was trying to be tactful but since you’re being an ass, it was fucking amazing.”

Something flashed in Cartman’s eyes that Kyle couldn’t read. “You’re welcome,” he said and started walking up the carpeted steps to the door. 

Kyle’s feet felt frozen and it was a second or two before he followed. “Cartman!” he called from the doorway and met up with him the hall.

“What?” 

“Just – I just don’t want shit to be weird between us.” 

Cartman stared straight ahead. “And why would it be?” 

“Because – I mean, you--” 

Cartman stopped abruptly and turned to face Kyle, who nearly collided into him. “I asked you on a date, I didn’t ask you to be my gay life partner. Jesus.” 

It was more than a date, and they both knew that. Cartman had asked him _out_ out. 

They started to walk together; Kyle had plans to meet Stan at the Commons. 

“Okay, whatever,” Kyle muttered. He snuck a glance at Cartman as they walked. The way he was two-strapping it because he said two-straps are now cool and one straps were for lame-o’s. Kyle’s been a one-strap guy since high school. Cartman’s shoulders were wide and his shirt tightly fitted over them. Kyle recalled the way those same shoulders felt pressing him down, using all his girth, so much wider than Stan’s slim frame, yet he fit into it well. Kyle shook the thoughts away, unable to believe they were even forming. 

“You wanna hang or whatever?” Cartman asked, faux-nonchalant as they exited the Social Sciences building. Kyle could totally hear the tension and slight annoyance in his tone. 

“Plans with Stan,” Kyle replied softly. 

Cartman scoffed and stopped walking, hitching his backpack a little higher. Kyle turned to face him. “Right. You two gonna be even more attached at the hip now than you already were? Gonna make out on the grass in front of the library and feed each other M&Ms?” 

Kyle rolled his eyes but still felt his face heat. “Since when do I do PDA’s?” 

“Since you finally nailed your childhood sweetheart?” 

Kyle eyed him stubbornly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start changing who I am for him.” 

Cartman raised his hands in acquiescence. “Whatever you say, Jew. Just don’t forget other people exist or whatever.” 

“Stan’s the co-dependent one, not me, Cartman.” 

Cartman laughed and it sounded mean, made Kyle’s skin on his neck prickle. 

“What?” he asked, flatly. 

Cartman looked around loftily and picked at his cuticle. “It’s cute that you think so, Broflovski.” 

Kyle was totally gonna be fucking late meeting Stan but god damn it, he needed to know what Cartman was going on about. He gritted his teeth and said, in his calmest yet most condescending tone possible, “And just how am I co-dependent on Stan, fuck face?” 

When Cartman’s eyes finally met his again they were hard. “Have you even dated? Anyone? At fucking all?” 

Kyle’s mouth worked silently for a moment, completely stunned by the question. “I—fuck you, I have.” 

Cartman scoffed again. “No you haven’t. You’ve had random hookups.” 

“And what’s wrong with that?” 

Cartman opened his mouth and then snuck his teeth into his bottom lip. “Nothing. You know what, fucking nothing,” he said, getting a little loud and throwing his hands up dramatically. Kyle winced. Cartman’s dramatics really weren’t something for an outside, crowded campus. 

“Cartman, would you fuckin--” Kyle started, ready to ask him to chill out or at least let them take this somewhere else, but Cartman cut him off by taking a step forward, right into Kyle’s space. 

Kyle gulped as Cartman looked down at him. The few inches of height Cartman had him had proved to be really fucking hot that first night they hooked up, bounding into Cartman’s dorm room and arguing over the trivia night they’d just come from, Stan having been off hanging with Kenny and his frat bros, because for some reason he was considering joining. 

Cartman kept insisting the answer to the question which had caused them both to lose, since they’d been on a team together, had been wrong and Kyle was patient at first and then irritated and then flat out pissed, which soon devolved into a yelling match over everything they’ve ever fought about their entire lives, which _then_ devolved into Cartman pushing Kyle up against his door, hovering over him, breath hot against his face, their eyes wide yet still fierce from the argument, before Cartman had said “Oh fuck it,” and crashed their lips together in one of the hottest, most intense kisses Kyle’s ever experienced in his 19 years on this earth. 

Kyle felt his cheeks flame as he thought about it now, Cartman gazing down at him, room between them but not enough to keep his breath from going short. 

“Look, I. For all our fucking lives you’ve called me a selfish bastard and so I fuckin’ – that was me doing something unselfish, okay?” 

Kyle nodded slowly, throat working, not trusting himself to speak. 

“But don’t fucking think for one second that I almost didn’t. Don’t think that I didn’t consider winning you over somehow. But I fuckin’ realized… what good would that do? You’ve got this – this _fantasy_ of you and Stan in your head, so much so that you’ve never really given anyone else a chance.”

“And you have?” Kyle shot back at him, on automatic. He knew that was a low blow but he couldn’t help it. 

Kyle thought he actually saw hurt flash in Cartman’s eyes but it was so brief he could hardly be sure. “Yeah, so, maybe all I’ve had is hookups, too. But there’s a difference between you and me, Jew.” Cartman leaned in so their faces were practically touching and whispered, deceptively soft, in his ear. “No one’s ever wanted to date me.” 

Kyle closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Cartman was moving away and down the steps before he could gather any semblance of thought. 

“Cartman!” he called out, and watched as he turned around slowly, expectant. “I,” Kyle started, feeling so fucked up right. He thought shit like this, feeling helpless and confused and so fucking _small_ was supposed to stop after high school. “I really don’t want this to fuck us up.” 

God help him, but Cartman’s come to—matter. A lot. More than Kyle perhaps realized. And watching him walk away right now, even if it was just him going to his dorm or the cafeteria, was akin to watching Stan walk away from him at the airport, boarding a plane to New York and Wendy. And that’s…. 

_Fuck_. 

Cartman smiled but it looked sad. “You got what you always wanted, Jew. The fantasy is becoming a reality. So how about you see if it lives up to it. And in the meantime, I’m gonna chill in the lovely quiet of my room. You got me?” 

Kyle nodded, mouth dry. “Yeah. I got you.” 

Cartman saluted and jogged down the stairs and out of sight. He could do that. He could – give Cartman space while figuring this shit out with Stan. 

No fucking problem. 

___________________________

_two months later_

Kyle sat at desk in his room, laptop open, fingers hovering over the keys. His roommate was out and Kyle had lifted one of his beers. Okay, maybe two of his beers. Maybe three. And now he was banging his head on his desk before looking up determinedly to type.  
Google stared back mockingly. 

_can you be in love with two people at once_ Kyle typed in. He didn’t know how else to phrase it. He didn’t even know what the fuck he was feeling anymore. Maybe it wasn’t love. At all. 

These past two months since getting together with Stan have been… a fucking whirlwind. Things had been so incredible that first night together, right up until the Cartman bombshell that fucked Kyle up and started all this bullshit, but the sex since then -- Kyle didn’t know how to describe it. It was good, it was – it felt good of course, but the passion that seemed to be present on that first night just wasn’t there all the subsequent times they did it. Like, it just felt comfortable and almost – going through the motions. Kyle knew his mind was elsewhere at times lately but it didn’t really explain how passive Stan was himself. Kyle started really second guessing a lot of shit. Like maybe it was only that hot the first time because Stan really did think he was still in competition with Cartman. Maybe it was his last, desperate attempt to give Kyle what he thought he wanted so he didn’t lose him. 

Kyle didn’t want to believe so – after all Stan did break up with Wendy after the kiss – but that was so _Stan_. Stan, who hated doing something that would make someone dislike him. Stan, who needed to right wrongs by taking extreme actions. Maybe Kyle was just an extreme fucking action. 

Not to mention Stan’s been all about the frat these days, after having pledged and gotten in. It was all he talked about and they have to go do frat-related things all the time and Kyle’s so fucking sick of it already. 

That’s where Stan was right now, them having fought about Kyle coming and Kyle fucking putting his foot down that no, he really doesn’t feel like going to yet another Friday night keg stand party with douche dudebros.

So instead, he was googling love advice and drinking because what better way to spend your last year as a teenager, right? 

The first result on google is an 11 step guide on how to handle being in love with two people at the same time. Kyle groaned and read through his fingers. Dear god, there were _drawings_. Kyle went down the list and the problem was, most of the suggestions had already happened. 

**Choose one person to be mentally committed to** : that was Stan, he supposed. 

**Choose one person to be platonic with** : Cartman. 

**Choose to then distance that platonic person from you to see if it really was just a crush, someone you lust over or more** : well, Cartman had done that for him. 

They didn’t see each other much the first month. Cartman was apparently hanging with Kenny in his single a lot, which Kenny would say anytime they’d see each other either at a frat related thing or just hanging at the diner near campus. 

“How’s he doing?” Kyle had asked quietly one night as they were exiting the diner, Stan already a few steps ahead. 

Kenny peered at him with a pointed look. “Okay. Ask him yourself.” 

Kyle shook his head, clearing his throat. “Giving him, uh, space.” 

They saw each other in sociology class, of course, but Cartman didn’t try to actively engage him after Kyle would undoubtedly answer a question and it – sucked. And they didn’t walk together after but that was probably because Kyle was always meeting Stan now. 

Kenny laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Little hint: he doesn’t want it.” 

Stan was at the car doors now and Kyle slowed his step. “Oh, uh.” 

Kenny squeezed his shoulder and leaned in toward his ear. “Another little hint: you didn’t break up, dude. Stop treating him like an ex.” 

Kenny bounded over to Stan then and left Kyle staring after him, feet feeling too heavy to move. 

Why had it felt like that, then? 

After that, Kyle took Kenny’s advice. He started texting Cartman again, started playing Call of Duty with him from his own dorm room and yelling at him over the comm. He still hadn’t been back in Cartman’s room but they were at least yelling at one another in class again. It felt – normal. Right. It felt better than fucking good and the other night, when he wasn’t sexiling Stan’s or his own roommate and instead went to bed alone, he'd reached down and palmed his dick and thought of Cartman’s mouth – the way he kissed, the way he sucked his dick like Kyle was the greatest thing he’d ever tasted, the way he greedily swallowed while Stan spit. 

Kyle gasped and shook and moaned when he came and then he curled in on himself and wanted to die.

He looked at the webpage again, still stuck on the part about it being a crush or lust or more. God, there was definitely lust. And he – he liked Cartman. A lot. He’d honest to goodness _missed_ him, like a part of him had been cut out. 

“Shit,” Kyle moaned, dropping his head in his hands. 

Kyle idly wondered what Cartman was up to right now. He looked at the time. Trivia night was starting up in a few at the Commons. 

Kyle grab his coat, hat, and scarf and made his way there. Snow was already beginning to fall a lot, even though it was only mid-November, and tonight there was already a light dusting. Denver fucking sucked, but at least it wasn’t South Park. 

Kyle took his hat off as he entered and made his way to the rec room. When he entered his heart leapt as he saw Cartman sitting on one of the couches, drinking a Pepsi. Kyle bit his lip. He didn’t know if he should go sit in the empty spot by him or just park it off to the side. 

His choice was decided for him when Cartman chose that moment to look around the room, his gaze widening a fraction as it settled on Kyle. 

After a pause he lifted his drink and titled it in an offer to come sit. 

Kyle went and put a little distance between them. “Hey,” he said quietly. 

“Hey. Gonna kick your ass tonight.” 

Kyle let out a slow breath. “You wish,” he grinned and then they were off. 

________________

It was fun, easy, and relaxed. They mocked the shit outta one another and yelled and laughed and Kyle was so fucking thankful for the lack of tension as they headed out into the brisk Colorado air. 

Cartman pulled his coat a little tighter around the collar and rubbed his hands together. 

“Temperature dropped,” Kyle said as they glanced up at the sky. 

“Gee, thanks, weather man,” Cartman replied snarkily. 

“Fuck off,” Kyle said without heat, grinning. 

He watched Cartman pull something out of his pocket and then tap on the box. “You mind?” he asked, holding up the cigarette between his thumb and index finger. 

“Just blow it in the other direction,” Kyle grumbled. 

“That’s what she said.” 

Kyle snorted. “Dude, that makes no sense.” 

Cartman shrugged. “Eh, it’s the thought that counts.” 

Kyle smirked and they started walking. “Thought you quit last year,” Kyle said conversationally. 

A glance out of his peripheral revealed Cartman’s slight shrug. “Picked it up again recently.” 

Kyle put his hands inside his coat and didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to know if everything – with them, was some sort of catalyst. 

“Marsh doing frat shit with Kenny?” Cartman asked, and Kyle wasn’t sure if he was happy he was so on point or pissed. 

“Yeah.” 

Cartman snorted. “Can’t believe McCormick joined a frat.” 

“I know, right?” 

Cartman took a long drag and Kyle watched the smoke curve in front of them in the coolness of the air. “He’s only doing it for the sorority chicks.”

“And the shitload of beer.” 

“And the shitload of beer,” Cartman agreed, grinning. 

Kyle grinned back, felt something in his chest clench and then unlock as their eyes met. 

Cartman darted his gaze away first and it suddenly felt awkward. Shit. 

“Wouldn’t have expected it of Marsh, though,” Cartman said, lightly. 

Kyle shrugged. “Stan gets into phases.” 

Cartman laughed. “What, like his Goth one?” 

“Yeah, sorta. I dunno, he gets like this sometimes. Like he needs to – experience everything the world has to offer or something. Or at least like, different societal groups.” 

“God, what a hippie,” Cartman muttered under his breath and it startled a laugh out of Kyle. 

“I’ve learned not to question it.” 

Cartman was silent for a few moments and so Kyle looked over, took in his creased brow, watched the way his lips pursed together as he took a drag. 

“You’re his boyfriend now,” Cartman finally said. “Maybe time to question things.” 

Kyle hated to admit how right he was. That he couldn’t just expect their relationship to remain exactly the same, with none of the bumps in the road that couples go through. Hell, it was already fucking happening. 

Kyle didn’t respond, just shrugged like it wasn’t something he’d already been thinking about, like it wasn’t the main reason he wasn’t with Stan right now. 

“So, uh,” Cartman started, pausing to take another drag before tossing the butt onto the cement. “That project is coming up for Selzner’s class. Do you have a partner yet?” 

“No,” Kyle admitted. He’d had a lot of other shit on his mind. 

He watched as Cartman dragged a palm across the back of his neck. “Well, you wanna? You’re good at this shit.” 

Kyle felt his heart kick up, felt his pulse begin to race. “Yeah, uh. Sure, man.” 

“Cool,” Cartman said, starting to walk backwards. “Thanks for seeing me to my dorm like a gentleman,” he grinned toothily before hopping up the steps to the entrance. 

Kyle tried not to be disappointed that he wasn’t invited in. 

“You have a boyfriend,” he muttered to himself and then headed back to his own room because yeah, him and said boyfriend were currently in a fight, actually. 

Kyle hated everything. 

____________________

His fight with Stan wasn’t patched up until Sunday night. They spent the entire weekend avoiding each other, Kyle texting Kenny all the shit he should be saying to Stan until he finally went to Stan’s dorm and said it all to him. And even then, it didn’t feel settled because Stan didn’t seem to really get it, didn’t get that Kyle didn’t want to just tag around with his shit. 

They had pretty good make-up sex, which was at least more intense than things normally are between them. 

“Maybe we should get into fights more often,” Stan breathed out, curved around Kyle’s back, breath warm against his neck. 

The words were soft, teasing, but they made Kyle go cold. Because they were validation that things weren’t always that heated with them, and worse, they made him think about his fiery friendship with Cartman, which transcended into the bedroom seamlessly. 

Kyle and Stan have rarely fought since high school started. They sort of had all their petty arguments as adolescents. And they still liked a lot of the same shit but also had their own separate interests as well. Kyle supposed this frat thing really was gonna be a new Stan ‘thing’ but he hated how all-consumed Stan would get with shit, especially since they just got together. 

That week marked the first time he was back in Cartman’s room since that infamous last time. They needed to start working on their project and it was quieter there seeing that he had the single. And there was more room, too. Kyle spread a bunch of books down on the floor and started drawing out some graphs. 

“Why are you doing that? We’re just gonna PowerPoint this shit anyway.” 

“I like textual things,” Kyle replied absently, focusing on the pie chart he was drawing. When he looked up he found Cartman staring at him. 

“Do I have Dorito cheese on my face?” Kyle asked, wiping at it absently. 

Cartman seemed to shake himself visibly and looked away. “Nah, you look pretty as ever, Jew.” 

Kyle’s skin prickled a little, heat settling in his belly. He sat back against the edge of the bed, taking a break. 

Cartman passed him a Coke, even though he knew Cartman hated Coke. 

“You didn’t have to buy it for me,” Kyle said lamely. 

He felt Cartman stiffen beside him, their shoulders brushing together. “Who said I did?” 

“Okay,” Kyle replied skeptically. 

“Kenny drinks it!” 

“Kenny drinks beer, beer, and wait for it, more beer.” 

“Yeah, well, I got that too, but figured you’d frown upon it while we’re working.” 

Kyle snorted. “You’d be right.” 

He was starting to become hyperaware of every spot him and Cartman were touching when his phone buzzed. 

_diner for dinner? My treat babe_

Kyle felt a mix of fondness and disappointment. He wanted to see Stan but he’d also told him he was busy tonight. 

_with cartman studying remember?_

Cartman was flipping through the books now, and he looked back at Kyle when his phone buzzed again. “You slackin, Jewboy?” 

_you never said it was cartman_

Jesus Christ, Kyle thought to himself and began typing furiously. 

_yes, I did. You were too busy blowing me at the time. I gotta go stan_

He tossed his phone to the side. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Cartman grinned innocently. 

“Shut up, we have work to do.” 

_______________________

Kyle had barely seen Stan all week. He supposed they were fighting again, this time about the Cartman thing. It wasn’t helping matters that that was where Kyle had been spending all his time this week, but, hell, Stan had promised he wouldn’t do the jealous shit. And besides, he’d been doing his frat shit every night. At least Kyle’s stuff was actually school related. 

They’d made a lot of progress on everything, and while they argued about a lot of parts of the presentation, they still ended up coming to an agreement in the end. 

“Maybe we’ve matured,” Kyle said on Friday night, when they were finally finished, raising his beer up in celebration. 

“I highly doubt that,” Cartman said loftily. “But thank fuck, now we can drink.” 

Kyle laughed and slumped back against the bed, his ass starting to fall asleep on the floor. 

“We might be able to make trivia,” Kyle said, peering over at the alarm clock on Cartman’s nightstand. 

“Eh, that’d require moving,” Cartman groaned and threw his arm over the bed above Kyle, which left his fingers inches from hair. 

Kyle swallowed around nothing and then gulped down some beer. 

“Put something on,” Kyle said, nudging Cartman’s thigh with his own. 

“You’re lucky the remote is close by. I’m tired, you’re a slave driver.” 

“Quit bitching and play something,” Kyle snapped and then yelped when Cartman pulled a strand of his hair. 

“’S what you get,” he murmured contently. Except now his arm had fallen around Kyle’s shoulders, after Kyle had jerked forward. 

Instead of asking him to move, Kyle just leaned back against him, not really sure what he was doing. He felt Cartman stiffen beside him and then his hand squeeze his shoulder once, rhythmically while he scrolled through Netflix for something to play. He settled on Super Troopers, which was fine by Kyle. 

They watched, laughed, all the while sitting there like this was some date, like it was totally ordinary for Cartman to have his arm around Kyle, his thumb brushing over his shoulder blade absently through the cotton of his shirt. 

They didn’t say one word to one another; the only sound was their breathing and their occasional laughter. The air began to feel weighted and heavy, thick with tension that was swirling around them, like it was blatantly obvious what they were both thinking about right now, zeroed in on the sensation of one another’s bodies. 

Kyle wasn’t sure how it happened, couldn’t pinpoint the exact trajectory. He’s pretty sure Cartman started laughing, breath warm against the side of his face, listing a little toward him, and that his lips caught on Kyle’s ear. And from there it was like a dam breaking: the slow drag of Cartman’s beer-slick lips sliding down his neck, Kyle’s head tilting back and his eyes falling shut, their breathing as loud as a the pounding of their hearts. And when Cartman turned Kyle's head toward his with a press of fingertips to chin, Kyle just went, groaning into Cartman's mouth as they kissed, wet and desperate, tongues darting out to brush together before sliding into one another’s mouths, so fucking hot and slick. 

Cartman pushed the empty pizza box away with a strong hand and moaned as he laid Kyle down on the carpeting, climbing on top of him and getting a large thigh between his. He tasted of beer and cigarettes and that spicy flavor that’s all him and jesus fuck, Kyle wanted to fucking destroy him. 

“Oh, god,” Cartman groaned, kissing down Kyle’s jaw, over his throat, down his neck. “God, the shit I wanna do to you.” He began sucking on Kyle’s neck so hard that he had to push him away because, oh fuck, _hickeys_. 

“We, oh _fuck_ , we can’t,” Kyle gasped, even as his hands roamed up and down Cartman’s back and down his ass, squeezing. 

Cartman jerked against him and Kyle could feel how hard he was, his erection thick and warm against the crease of his thigh. Kyle was just as fucking hard and he wanted nothing more than to get Cartman naked, fucking rub all up on his body. Oh god, he had to-- 

“Motherfuck, just tell me you want this,” Cartman said, body heavy on him as he’d stopped moving as soon as Kyle said ‘we can’t,’ his breath against Kyle’s neck making him shiver. 

Kyle took a shuddering breath and dug his nails into Cartman’s upper back. “I do, Jesus Christ, what do you think.” 

Cartman pulled back, bracing himself on one hand against the carpeting, so he could look Kyle right in the eye. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” 

Kyle held his gaze and his own breath as well. Cartman was still hard and pressed up against him and god, he wanted that friction, but—

“I just know I want you so fucking bad I can’t even see straight.”

Kyle feels his breathing hitch. “Cartman. I. Fuck, I just,” he dragged his hand through his hair, his eyes glassy with want still. “I don’t know what the fuck is even happening, okay? I mean, I’ve loved Stan forever, you fucking know that.” 

Kyle watched the muscle in Cartman’s jaw twitch as he looked somewhere over Kyle’s head. “Are you in love with him or do you just love him?” 

Kyle felt something snap inside him and he pushed Cartman back so he could sit up against the edge of the bed, Cartman settled over his thighs. “Fuck off,” Kyle said, pushing at Cartman’s chest. “Just. Fuck you, man. Stop trying to like, sway my fucking opinion or viewpoint or something. I can’t--” He pulled at his hair again, sure that it’s sticking everywhere now, and slammed his hand down against the carpet, meeting Cartman’s eyes. “You manipulate things, people. That’s all you fucking _do_ and you’re trying to do it here. With your fucking – with your fucking fantasy vs. reality _bullshit_.” 

Kyle’s cheeks were on fire now and he forced himself to take a deep breath. Cartman, however, looked perfectly calm. Even more so, he looked deadly serious. 

“That’s not what I’m doing here. I haven’t done that with you in a while. Ask Kenny. Hell, ask fucking _Stan_. I’m serious about this. About you. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. I’ve fucking wanted you for years. And yes, that was asking me to go ‘out’ out with you two months ago. As in more than dates. As in your fucking boyfriend.” 

Kyle’s eyes widened a fraction and he clenched his own hands in fists. “Why the fuck didn’t you say all of that when we were in your room?”

“Oh please, you fucking knew, Kyle. Don’t act like you didn’t know exactly what that was. You knew when we were standing in the middle of fucking campus.”

“I—yeah, I knew, but I didn’t know how—how _long_.” 

Cartman smirked but it was a mean twist of his lips. “Gotta have some secrets, eh?” 

Kyle sighed and closed his eyes, wiping at his still kiss-slick lips. “You should’ve—said more. That day in your room.” 

“No,” Cartman replied, voice hard. When Kyle opened his eyes he saw the anger flashing in Cartman’s own. “Fuck that, Jew, you’d already made up your fucking mind. This needed to be your decision. And fuckin’ A, maybe you thought you’d made one already but obviously not. So you need to fucking make another.” 

Kyle looked at him, tried to read his expression and couldn’t. “I gotta. I can’t do this. I gotta go.” 

Cartman nodded once, face twisting and moved to let Kyle up before flopping back onto his bed and throwing a hand over his face. 

Kyle felt déjà vu as he stood at the door and called Cartman’s name. 

“Yeah?” 

“You knew though, didn’t you. You knew I might… that with Stan, that maybe it was more a fantasy. That maybe I--” _should be with you_ , Kyle added silently, unable to voice that. It’d make it too real, too palpable. 

Cartman dropped his hand from his face and met Kyle’s gaze levelly. “I didn’t know, I’m not some fucking psychic. I… I hoped, Kyle.” He added the last part so fucking soft that Kyle never would’ve thought it could’ve come from Cartman. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. 

“I gotta go,” he repeated and opened the door. 

_______________________

Kyle felt like he was gonna puke as he stood in front of Stan, in Stan’s room, his roommate thankfully gone for the weekend. 

He’d waited an hour before Stan had finally gotten back and he smelled heavily of beer. 

“Are you sure you aren’t too drunk for this?” Kyle repeated as he paced while Stan sat back on the bed, hands folded on his legs. 

“You sound like someone fucking died so yeah, no, I don’t think I’m too drunk for this. I might need to be drunker.” 

Stan already sounded miserable, and fuck. Just, fuck. 

“I made out with Cartman tonight.” 

Stan barely flinched, just sat back further and nodded dully up at Kyle. “Yeah, well, you were with him all fucking week.” 

“That doesn’t mean I had to make out with him,” Kyle said incredulously, finding himself playing Devil’s Advocate here. 

“Doesn’t it?” Stan replied, snidely, meanly. 

Kyle’s stomach felt like a brick. “I’m sorry, Stan.” 

Stan nodded again, but sat forward this time, fists now clenched. “What I don’t—yeah, no, what I don’t fucking _get_ , Kyle, is why the fuck didn’t you tell me weeks ago. Why did you _start_ this shit with me if you had feelings for him.” 

“Stan, I didn’t--”

“No, no,” Stan yelled, standing now, the two of them squaring off in the center of the room. “I fucking told you, I _told_ you I would’ve stepped aside. I fucking almost _expected_ to have to.” 

“I didn’t fucking realize it, okay?! I didn’t—I didn’t realize the feelings were… there.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Nice going, asshole. I fucking broke up with _Wendy_ for you.” 

Kyle flinched as if Stan just delivered a physical blow. He might as well have. Kyle looked at him, calmer than he felt, and said, “Dude. You broke up with Wendy for _you_.” 

Stan opened his mouth, eyes a little wide, but Kyle continued on. “Because you couldn’t handle your own guilt. Because you kissed me because you were drunk or lonely or whatever and you tried to project everything else onto that.” 

“Fuck that, Kyle, that’s not—“ 

Kyle sighed, suddenly feeling defeated. “It is though, Stan. I don’t know why it happened or whatever. I know you were feeling some – strong feelings for me, with how much we’d been hanging out since starting college but – I don’t think I was ever it for you, man. I think you just – hoped I was. Because I was easier than a long distance relationship. Maybe easier than anything.”

Kyle took a deep, steading breath. “I was your sure thing, Stan, until I almost wasn’t. And then, what, we get together and suddenly it’s like, hey, got Kyle locked down now, might as well do all my frat shit, do what I wanna do, drag him along.” 

It was all becoming clearer to Kyle now, in his head. 

“I—I didn’t. That’s not what I thought, Kyle. I mean, I didn’t—plan any of that, anyway.” 

“Not consciously,” Kyle provided. 

Stan rolled his eyes but he also let out a genuine smirk, the first since this whole fight started. “Gonna psychoanalyze me again, huh?” 

Kyle smirked back but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Look, I. My point is, you shouldn’t have broken up with Wendy for me. You should’ve broken up with Wendy because it was what you wanted to do. Not what you felt was the right thing to do. And you shouldn’t suddenly be like – regretting it now or something, just because you and I are--” 

He couldn’t say ‘breaking up’. Not yet. 

“I mean, that’s disrespectful to her, Stan. And frankly, to me.”

Stan dropped his head and nodded, looking at his feet. “You’re uh. You’re right. You’re usually fucking right, Kyle.” 

“I’m not always right,” Kyle replied miserably, meeting Stan’s gaze. “I’m so fucking sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean for it to happen and it—it didn’t get far. I swear.” 

Stan nodded. “Yeah, well. You. You seem to be, uh, wanting him.” 

Kyle sighed and moved to the bed, waiting for Stan to sit beside him. He put his head in his hands as he began to talk.  


“Dude, I just. I always thought I knew what I wanted, you know? It was you, Stan. Shit, it was always you. But maybe he was right. It was the dream vs. the reality. Maybe you and I were just – never meant for that, dude. I mean shit, Stan, you’re not even all that gay. If you and I were gonna start something, it should’ve been when we were like 14 or 15 and horny as hell and experimenting or something.” 

Stan laughed and put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Yeah, uh. Maybe. I mean, I liked being with you, Kyle, and that first time was hot as fuck but like, I feel like the sex, particularly the uh, anal, was some sort of novelty for me to like, try or whatever and then I wasn’t – all that crazy about keeping it up? Which, jeez, isn’t fair to you. God, I’m an asshole.” 

Kyle shook his head. “You’re a passive asshole, Stan, there’s a difference.” 

Stan punched his shoulder and they both grinned, but sobered quickly. “I uh. But yeah, shit, I dunno, Kyle. I guess I mistook what kinda love I feel for you. Or something. I—god, I love you more than anyone, okay. I wasn’t fucking shitting you about that. But maybe that’s just. Not enough.” 

Kyle nodded, swallowing hard. “Maybe it just – wasn’t meant to be our dynamic? Super Bests. That’s us, right?” 

Stan smiled, soft and a little sad. “Super Bests,” he agreed, taking Kyle’s hand in his own and stroking the back of his palm. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, Kyle breathing around the adrenaline still coursing through his veins before Stan became to speak. 

“You know, after graduation Butters told me something. He said that Cartman went to San Francisco to rescue you from the Smug that time when we were kids. And Cartman promised him not to tell. So like, I asked him why he was telling me this now and he just looked over to where you and Cartman were standing by the chips, arguing because Cartman was double dipping and said, 'just in case'.”

Kyle sat stunned, stomach flipping. He couldn’t believe it. That Cartman had… 

Stan squeezed his hand. “And, you know, I never really forgot that. I always saw the way he looked at you, Kyle. I sort of don’t know how you didn’t. But I thought to myself, hey, if he really wanted you to change your opinion of him, once and for all, he would’ve told you that, right? But… well, you started doing that on your own once we hit college. So maybe he was waiting for that. For you to do it on your own terms. And I guess really what it comes down to is who would do more to win you, Kyle. I’d write a song for you but Cartman – Cartman would fucking cross state lines.” 

Kyle’s mouth was formed in an ‘O’ by the time Stan was done and he was trembling a little. He did the only thing he could think of and turned into Stan’s arms, hugging him tight. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, voice a little wet. 

“Fuckin’ trippy, right?” Stan replied thickly. 

“Thanks,” Kyle murmured as they pulled back. 

“Yeah, well,” Stan replied, wiping discreetly under his nose. “Guess I owed him one, right?” 

Kyle smiled and squeezed his hand once more. “Yeah. Guess so.” 

Stan squeezed back before letting go. 

“We gonna be okay?” Kyle asked, voice tentative.

Stan met his eyes. “Might take a little bit, but. Yeah. Yeah, Kyle. We’re always gonna fucking be okay.”  
___________________

Kyle stood in the hallway, palms sweating. He shouldn’t be so fucking nervous. There was nothing _to_ be nervous about, was there? He’d given himself the weekend. Just to – to make sure he wasn’t being hasty and that he shouldn’t just 90210 this motherfucker, choose neither, choose _himself_ , but what the fuck ever. Screw that. 

He raised his hand and knocked on the door. 

Cartman opened it. 

“Jew,” he nodded, raising his eyebrows. 

Kyle dug his nails into his palms and took a breath. 

[end]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyle chooses Cartman.

**Author's Note:**

> all comments greatly appreciated <3


End file.
